Triggers
by Strawberrywaltz
Summary: Hydra manages to get their hands on Clint, Tony and Steve. The aftermath isn't pretty. Warnings for Rape/non-con elements. The majority of the story is about the aftermath, but please proceed with caution. Slash/y


It's been a while! I have a few stories in the works...mostly slashy, so if that's not your thing...well, sorry? I haven't gotten the chance to see Age of Ultron yet, so no spoilers please!

Also, this is a rape recovery story (of sorts) and there are brief scenes depicting non explicit rape, so please proceed with caution!

* * *

"You said it would be okay!" Tony snarled as soon as Clint came into view. "You promised – does it look like things are okay?"

Clint shrunk back from the angry words. "Tony – "

"Get away from me!" Tony shrieked and pushed his way to the corner of the room.

Clint stood frozen as he watched the man scramble back. It hurt, more than Clint wanted to think about or show on his face.

Steve moved between them, which is ironic. "Maybe it's best if you give him time." He advised.

Silently Clint nodded and swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat. He knew if he said something it would only set Tony off again. Slowly Clint backed out of the room and moved into the hallway of the hospital. He wanted to tell Tony that he was sorry and that he hadn't – but his voice was a trigger now. It sucked.

With nothing better to do Clint walked down the hallway, head down, shoulders slumped and headed towards the elevator and his floor.

" _Cap, can you break us out?" Tony asked, voice tired and weak._

 _Steve tried to pull the bars apart, but they wouldn't budge. His arms trembled with effort and Clint already guessed the Hydra agents had figured out someway to nullify the man's strength. At least it was only his strength that was gone. Clint hated to think that they'd be subjected to watching as Steve's body started to shrivel away._

 _After a moment of struggle Steve gave up and panted as he sat down. "Can't." He told his fellow captives tiredly._

" _No worries, Cap." Clint said. "We'll find another way."_

 _Tony sighed and Clint could tell he wasn't so sure. Hell, Clint wasn't so sure either. Really all they could do was hope that the others found them soon and broke them out before Hydra could enact whatever plan they had for the three Avenger captives._

 _Three men entered the holding area and Clint frowned. So much for good timing._

" _You," They pointed at Stark. "Come out," They aimed the gun at Clint who growled unhappily. Tony reluctantly did as told, complaining the entire time under his breath._

 _One of the men entered the cell and stood with Clint and Steve. "You'll do what we say." The man promised and Steve frowned._

" _Clint!" Tony shrieked a warning too late, the dart hit Clint's neck and the agent wasn't quick enough to pull the dart from his skin. Clint blinked as he looked down at the evil piece of metal and glared at the man who had shot him._

" _What was in the dart?" Steve demanded of the man in the cell with them._

" _Poison." The Hydra agent announced coldly. "That is why you'll do as we say."_

Clint glanced around his room with pitiful loss. It was his fault really. If he had seen the danger coming than he could have avoided everything that had happened after. It was his fault that Steve had –

Well. Clint had done the rest of the damage himself. Of course he'd not considered the fallout. At the time Clint had only wanted to ease Tony's pain.

" _Hold him down." They Hydra agent commanded and Clint looked at Tony with apology in his eyes. Stark and Steve had been relieved of their clothes and Clint felt sick to his stomach. Clint was painfully aware that the poison he'd been hit with was not the cause of his nausea._

" _I'm sorry." Clint reaffirmed._

 _Tony shrugged and let Clint, still fully clothed hold him as Steve moved behind. Clint didn't look, he couldn't. His stomach turned as he heard the Hydra agents instruct Steve as he prepared Tony.  
_

" _It's going to be okay," Clint whispered to Tony when he whimpered. For some reason Clint couldn't shut up as Steve slid as gently as he could into the smaller man's body. "You're going to survive this. You're strong, Tony."_

It was ironic, really. The words Clint had hoped would help had ruined their friendship. While Steve was forced to rape Tony, Clint had to hold him down. Tony hadn't focused on Steve, he couldn't see him during the incident. However he could see Clint in front of him. He could hear Clint whispering in his ears.

Clint closed his eyes to the nightmarish memories. The Hydra agents had made Steve fuck Tony rougher and rougher until both Steve and Tony had cried. Tony had been sobbing; Steve's cheek had been stained with silent tears. It was lucky, in a way, that Tony hadn't seen or heard Steve. It allowed Tony to forget, or at least ignore what Steve had done.

Steve however was still struggling with his guilt. Clint tried to remind Steve why he'd done it. It had been too save them both. Steve had been a hero, even if it didn't feel like it.

"Gah," Clint growled. "It's all my fault," Clint growled and slammed his closed fist into the wall. The pain in his battered knuckles felt blissful. It was still nothing compared to the pain in Clint's heart.

If Clint had been faster and dodged the dart there would have been no leaverage…

Okay, that wasn't the strongest argument. If they hadn't shot Clint up with poison they would have simply threatened to shoot him. Or Tony. Or both of them. There was no escaping what had happened. Clint knew he needed to accept that and move on, but his whole life was screwed up. He wasn't just a trigger for Tony, but Steve too.

Clint kept to himself for the next week. He avoided going to the communal areas during high traffic time.

It was twelve midnight on Friday night when Clint saw Tony again. He was sitting at the peninsula looking into the kitchen when Tony shuffled in. Like usual Tony didn't bother to look around the room to check for dangers. He had JARVIS to warn him about that kind of thing.

Clint was frozen as the man walked in, cereal bowl in one hand, spoon in the other. He was afraid to breath, or move, or even make a sound. Anything could frighten his friend. Were they even friends anymore? Clint didn't even know.

When Stark did finally realize he wasn't alone he was holding a silver butter knife in his hand. At first his grip on the utensil was loose, but as soon as he caught sight of Clint his knuckles went white around the handle.

Their eyes locked and Clint's heart felt like it was stuck in his throat. He didn't move or speak as he watched Tony grip the blunt knife like his life depended on it.

Without a word Clint set the bowl of half eaten cereal down on the countertop and backed out of the room and away from Tony.

Clint stopped going to the communal area at all after that. If he got hungry he'd scrounge around on his floor in his own mostly bare cabinets or skipped the meal all together. It was easier that way. For everyone. Clint didn't want to hurt anyone anymore, even if it hurt him to be so alone. He understood though, the team needed to look after Steve and Tony. They were the ones that had been hurt. Clint had only just there.

It wasn't that the other Avengers made a point to ignore Clint. Bruce, when he saw Clint asked him how he was doing. Clint would lie easily enough and ask about the others. It was better to deflect. After all, Clint wasn't important. Clint hadn't been raped or forced to rape a friend.

In all honesty it wasn't until the first time the team was called to assemble that Clint realized he maybe should look for another job.

Steve at least had the decency to look very uncomfortable as he and Natasha met Clint at the elevator.

"It's your voice." Natasha explained. "He associates it with – " She let's the sentence drop. They all knew what she was talking about anyway.

"I could stay off coms." Clint suggested. His aim still could be useful even if he couldn't communicate with the team. It was too late to try and block the frequencies from Stark individually.

Steve shook his head. "I can't put you in that kind of danger. We wouldn't be able to know if you needed help and, well, Tony would still be able to see you." He pointed out gently.

Clint took a step back and accepted what they were saying. "Okay." He nodded numbly. "Yeah, well, okay. Good luck." He offered sadly before he retreated back down to his floor. How long would it be before they decided having him in the tower was too much of a liability? Clint couldn't and wouldn't blame Tony or Steve. That wouldn't be fair, but he also couldn't stand being useless.

His hands were dirty and they might never be clean again.

While the others were gone Clint pulled the worn SHIELD duffle out from underneath his bed and packed up what he'd brought when he'd first arrived at the tower. He left everything else. The paintings on the wall, anything he didn't think he deserved to keep stayed put.

Briefly Clint considered writing a note. Explaining his feelings and all that bullshit. He didn't want to sound petty though or make this situation all about him. Honestly he thought he was doing what was best for everyone. Clint couldn't stay idle and Tony couldn't hear his voice, or be in the same room as him. It was the best solution.

Clint left for SHIELD and left his Avengers issued Stark Phone behind with everything else.

He arrived at Fury's office and surprised the man by knocking.

"There's a first for everything." Fury commented as he eyed Clint up and down. "Shouldn't you be out fighting with the Avengers?"

"We both know I'm a trigger to Stark and Rogers." Clint told his former boss calmly. "I can't work with them. Not like this. I've never been one to sit on my hands, so, I'm asking to be reassigned to SHIELD. The Avengers don't need me, anyway." Now Clint was trying to convince himself. "They need a super to be their eyes. Maybe someone who can fly." Clint suggested with a casual shrug.

"Do you honestly think there is a better shot out there than you?" Fury raised an eyebrow.

Clint smirked. "No, not like me. But Tony's suit can calculate and aim probably better than I can and I'm sure there are other alternatives."

"This isn't a solution." Fury shook his head, "But I'm happy to take you back as long as you want to be here."

With a nod Clint adjusted the strap on his shoulder awkwardly. "I guess I'll need a new room."

Fury frowned. "494 on deck C is still free, I figured you'd get sick of Stark at some point and need to crash here to regain your sanity."

Clint huffed. "Stark isn't, wasn't so bad. Thanks, though, sir."

The Director gave Clint a sharp look and waved his hand in dismissal. "I'll have someone come get you when I find you a mission."

Clint took his cue and left the Director's office and headed back towards his old stopping grounds. There was still slight unrest from the fallout of Clint's unwanted association with Loki. For the most part people had accepted that what had happened hadn't been Clint's fault. He'd been brainwashed, essentially. Most understood that magic wasn't something they signed up to fight against. Of course that defense could only go so far when Clint had killed friends and coworkers.

Room 494 on level C was pretty much the same as he left it. Well, apart from the new graffiti. Whether Fury had been aware of the new decorations on the wall or not, Clint's heart sank.

It was clear the paint had been old, probably applied not long after New York had happened. Red words that reminded Clint of what he'd tried so hard to forget. Murderer. Traitor. Loki's Puppet. The wall was covered in dried yet still dripping blood red paint.

Clint stared at the wall for a long time before he set his bag down on his bed and moved to his private bathroom. He retrieved one of his old rags and filled an old cereal bowl with water before he returned to the wall and stared it down again with narrowed eyes.

Silently he washed the words away.

It wasn't until the next day that he received his first visitor.

"What the hell are you doing?" Natasha hissed at him as soon as he'd opened his door. She stood there with crossed arms and worry hidden behind the anger in her eyes.

Clint stepped back and let her inside his small room. Silently he watched her eye the wall still stained with red smears. The words were unreadable though, but he knew she could guess what had been written there. Her angry façade faded as she turned back to him for his explanation.

"Clint." She spoke when he didn't. "Come home."

"I can't." Clint shook his head. "Not if I'm a trigger. I can't do that to them."

Natasha tipped her head as her eyes turned sympathetic. "We were wrong to think you'd be okay through all this." She told him. "Clint, we want to help you too, you don't have to hide away here."

Again Clint shook his head and didn't meet her eyes. "I can't go back. You didn't see how he reacted to me just being in the same room with him. I didn't even have to say something, Nat." Clint thought back to the moment Tony had shuffled into the kitchen, how he had gripped that butter knife until Clint had left him alone.

"Clint – "

"And I can't not do anything." Clint sighed. "Steve was right when he pulled me back from that last call out. My voice in his ear – " He shook his head again. "It would have knocked him straight out of the sky."

"Clint." Natasha whispered his name in defeat. "We'll all get through this."

"We all know he needs space." Clint ignored her. "This is for the best. I can't just sit on my hands, Natasha. I need to be doing things."

"You mean trying to make up for the sins you didn't even commit but are still holding on your shoulders because your self esteem is obnoxiously low."

"Breathe, Tasha." Clint smiled a small smile.

"Cute." Natasha growled, but sighed in defeat. "Just, take care of yourself, things are going to work out. Even if I have to force them too."

"You are persuasive." Clint admitted and sat down on the foot of his bed. "Good luck, I guess."

Natasha frowned, but deflated a little. "Just, look after yourself, Hawkeye."

Clint nodded and watched Natasha leave him in his glorified self-assigned cell.

Twenty-four hours later Clint was on a plane with a new team headed to take out an arms dealer.

He spent twelve hours on a roof in the rain as he waited for his target to get into position. It took two seconds for him to make the shot and five minutes for things to go horribly wrong. Apparently the area the drug dealer was visiting was a bit more fortified than SHIELD had assumed.

Clint walked away from the ordeal with a bullet in his thigh and a cold settling in his chest. Apparently his new handler believed that was warrant for a stay in medical and Clint was too exhausted to resist. The drugs helped Clint come to that conclusion.

When Clint woke up next Steve was seated next to him.

"Hey," Steve greeted as he dutifully handed Clint a glass of water to sooth his throat.

"Hey," Clint echoed after taking a sip of the liquid.

"You're at the tower." Steve announced bluntly and Clint's face drew up in in confusion. Steve rushed to continue before Clint fully understood the implication. "We all decided we wanted to look after you. Not that SHIELD was doing a bad job, but you did get shot."

Clint glanced around and tried to sit up. "Tony – " He protested, worried that Stark would melt down now that he was around again.

Gently Steve pushed Clint back down onto the soft pillows he'd woken up to. "He was the one who demanded you were brought here." He explained with sympathetic eyes. "He's been working on things, you know. He has JARVIS play your voice to him. Getting him used to it again. Soon he won't see you as a trigger at all. We'll get through this. You didn't need to run away."

Clint felt himself relax minutely. "He shouldn't have to do that." Clint winced. He pictured Tony panicked day in and day out as he tortured himself with Clint's own voice. It was an awful thought to say the least.

"Clint, you are our friend." Steve reminded him. "What they made us do, it wasn't your fault. Or mine. It was Hydra's. If we give up on our friendship, well, it's like letting them win. We're all stubborn, Clint. It's going to be okay. Eventually. I am sorry, though."

"What?" Clint finally looked Steve in the eye. "Why?"

"I was so wrapped up in my own guilt that I hadn't even considered you'd be doing the same thing. Natasha and Bruce had been focused on us as well, it was wrong of us to just assume you'd be okay."

"Nothing happened to me, remember?" Clint snapped a little harshly. "There's no reason for you to worry about me. There's no reason to feel guilty. I was fine, the poison wasn't even a real threat. SHIELD found the cure and – "

"That's where you're wrong, Clint." Steve shook his head and took Clint's hand. "You were there, you were used as leverage against us. You tried to make things easier and then, well, we all know how that turned out. None of it was your fault though and none of us made it a point to prove that too you. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." Clint insisted.

"It's not yours either." Steve smiled sadly. "We're going to get through this. Together. We are not going to let those Hydra bastards tare this team apart. I'm not going to allow it, are you?"

Clint stared at Steve and couldn't help but agree. Who in their right mind could argue with Captain America, after all? "No, I'm not letting them win."

"Good." Steve smiled.

The nightmares wouldn't go away and the drugs didn't make things any easier. Being at the tower seemed to trigger Clint in a way it never had before. He was in constant fear that he'd run into Tony or catch Steve off guard. He limped around on crutches and did his best to avoid everyone, which was hard when the team, or at least most of the time, had made him their new mission. Natasha and Bruce were constantly checking in on him. It was hard to lie with the bags under his eyes and the obvious weight loss. He blamed it on his bummed leg and the drugs, but he could tell they knew he was lying.

Clint was in the middle of his self appointed physical therapy session when a voice startled him so bad he nearly fell flat on his face.

"Very graceful, birdbrain." Tony commented lightly as he walked closer to Clint.

Not sure what to do Clint stood there, knuckles white as he gripped the metal bars he had been using as support, and stared.

"What? It's been how long and you aren't going to even say hi?" Tony asked with a too bright smile. It was only somewhat fake, Clint noticed. There was some tension, but Clint could tell it was more from nerves than fear. Still, that could all change as soon as Clint opened his mouth.

"Well?" Tony pressed, impatient.

With a frown Clint shrugged. "I don't know what to say." He whispered weakly.

They both paused as Clint's words faded. It took a moment, but Tony's smile was back, the nerves all but gone. "See? I just needed some time. Say something else. Be your obnoxious, feathered self."

Clint swallowed thickly. "I'm sorry." He managed.

The smile vanished and Tony's shoulders dipped forward a little bit as he looked away. "It wasn't your fault. You – I know you were trying to make it easier. Steve, Steve was doing his best not to hurt me and you were trying to make things, better. I get it, I do. I'm a genius remember?" The last bit was meant as a joke, but fell flat. "Ha, well. I'm sorry, too."

"You've got nothing – "

"I do." Stark interrupted. "I made you feel like the bad guy. It wasn't fair and I'm sorry."

Clint couldn't help but think of himself as the bad guy, so he looked down. "I guess we're all a little bit screwed up."

Tony grinned and Clint smiled back. "It's what makes us a good team." The billionaire announced. "Now, you owe me pancakes, so stop doing whatever it is your doing and get cleaned up."

After another moment of hesitation, Clint nodded and gathered up his crutches to do as Tony requested. Maybe it would take them a while, but they would heal. Together they wouldn't let the bad guys win.

* * *

Thanks for reading!


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